


Selentikan Conquest (Act 1)

by aea2o5



Series: The Wars of Peteia [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Gen, I'm going for nation/history development, Original Mythology, Original Universe, Perhaps a bit grittier than my other stuff, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11875002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aea2o5/pseuds/aea2o5
Summary: King Andrew Phokaron has decided: it is time to expand his kingdom. His nation has been stitched back together following nearly a hundred years of civil war and instability. Follow his generals as they wage war against the enemies of the state. Is the Kingdom of Selentika in the ascendant, or will her enemies overcome her and enslave her people?





	1. Preparations Underway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I finally have a map of this quarter of the world:[](https://imgur.com/GPsjnbT)

Ships crowded the harbor, filling the crowded docks to overflowing. There were even more ships in the more open water of the bay, already loaded and ready to set sail. These were not the merchant ships one might expect in the Selentikan port of Akeis; these were warships – sleek galleys, well-fit for the shallow waters around the Selentikan island of Illeda, as well as for the depths of the Selean Sea, which separated Illeda from the much larger landmass that was Koriand’r. Some ways farther northwest along the coast, at the city of Anrym, a transport fleet was being outfitted, and the Selentikan Army was being embarked there.

Commander Niketas Lekapenos stood with his junior officers on a hill outside the city which overlooked the harbor, viewing the proceedings. “Everything is moving with all possible speed, Gregory?” he asked, glancing at his quartermaster.

“Yes, Commander. We expect the navy to be finished tomorrow, and the transport fleet will be all ready to go the day the galleys reach Anrym,” Quartermaster Gregory replied.

“And from there, it will be only a week to cross the sea, and our enemies will know nothing until we have landed and are besieging their capital,” Commander Lekapenos commented.

“The king is a masterful deviser of stratagems,” a more junior officer commented.

“Indeed, he is,” Lekapenos agreed. “Now, sirs, let us return to my quarters. We have plans to discuss.” The small group descended the hill, a light breeze tugging at their blue and purple cloaks.

Evening found the men gathered in a large house near the dock, standing around a large, circular table made of oak. There were silver wine goblets, all at varying stages of being emptied, scattered about the table. The lion’s share, however, was occupied by a map of the Kingdom of Kama, specifically the southern regions.

“Now, our spies assure us that al-Minsahra has eight infantry, three heavy cavalry, four skirmisher, and two light cavalry divisions close enough to Kama to offer us battle before we can invest the place,” Lekapenos spoke, placing the appropriate figurines on the map in their last reported position. “We know that we will be able to land nearly unopposed. The issue, sirs, is how to get into the capital without the risk of a major engagement.”

A zealous young captain – Arseni – questioned him. “Why do we not simply crush their forces? We outnumber them more than two to one, do we not? We can force an engagement and destroy them. Then we would be able to invest the capital without worrying about being counter-sieged, or, having taken the city, facing a siege ourselves.”

“The captain makes a good point,” Gregory said.

“Indeed… However, supposing we lose the battle? Then the invasion force will face complete and utter destruction. Is this a risk worth taking?” Niketas opened the question to the assemblage at large.

“I think it is not, Commander. The enemy knows the land better than we, sir. If they can maneuver us into unfavorable terrain, our chances of victory greatly diminish. If this is the best map we have, their chances of doing so are very great.” John, the cavalry officer, made the point.

“Yes, but our numbers would secure us the victory,” Arseni insisted.

“Numbers do not guarantee victory, captain. Remember the battle of Ash Mountain, when the Empire of Namfeld was defeated by the city-state of Rodorno. The accounts make for excellent reading,” Lekapenos informed the young man.

The meeting lasted for several hours more, and at midnight the junior officers departed for their own homes. Gregory and Niketas remained in the house – the commander because he lived there, and the quartermaster because he wanted to talk to his old friend.

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing, Gregory? Please, be honest.” The middle-aged commander’s voice was tinged with worry.

“I would never lie to you, Niketas,” Gregory reassured him. “I think that, with the timetable and objectives the king has given us, that you have done an exemplary job putting together a workable plan, and inspiring everyone involved to set to their tasks with an enthusiasm rarely seen. If King Andrew were here, he would commend you on your work.”

“Perhaps you think so. I have heard, however, that he intends to send Commander Bardas to take Oriaj, on the eastern-most part of the Kamite coast, as soon as he can assemble a reasonable invasion force from what battalions we have here and what he can afford to pull from our own army.”

“Commander Bardas? That fool? It’ll be a disaster!”

“Bardas is no fool, Gregory; he only appears as such. The king and I both know that he is shrewd. I had only hoped to escape the politics of Salonika for a while. Now Andrew is dragging me right back in.”

“At least he would never dream of replacing you on this front, even if he may be planning to open up a second.”

“Perhaps so…” Niketas tiredly said. “But our relations with Namfeld aren’t the greatest right now. And while they don’t like Kama, either, I am sure that opening a front near their borders is not the best political move. The Namfeldians frighten easily, despite the fact that they soundly beat us the last time we fought.”

“It’s a dangerous and complicated world, Niketas. We all do as we must. I, for one, support you even as you support the throne. Everything will turn out well in the end. You’ll see.”

“I fear I will not live to see it. We are older than campaigning men such as we are expected to be. This campaign may be my last.”

“Think not of such matters, Niketas,” Gregory admonished his commander. “Will you be taking your son with us?”

“Yes, I will be bringing Basil. Goodness knows that he is old enough to see a proper war, and he has been itching to accompany me on a military exercise ever since he turned eleven.”

“He’s what, thirteen, fourteen?”

“Fifteen. He’ll be sixteen when we land in Kama.”

“A man grown!” Gregory marveled.

“Indeed…” Niketas agreed. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to rest before we depart.”

“Absolutely, sir. Goodnight!” Gregory saluted, turned, and exited into the night. Commander Lekapenos looked at the now-deserted table for a long while before finally heading up to bed.


	2. Invasion

The next day, the navy departed for Anrym. Commander Lekapenos split his staff up aboard different ships, to guard against the possibility of losing the entire command if the fleet was separated, as well as so that if any part of the fleet was separated, it would have a senior officer with it.

After two days of sailing along the coast, they arrived in Anrym. The invasion force had been embarked upon the transports that day, under the supervision of General Heraklius. The combined fleets would depart the following day. The high command spent the night on board with the rest of those assembled, showing solidarity with the troops. It was a policy that Commander Lekapenos had established back when he gained his first command post two decades ago, during the civil war.

The next day saw the combined fleet departing from the last Selentikan port they would see until they took land in Kama, or until they turned back in defeat. Three days into the voyage, there had been no excitement. The transports were in the center of the spread-out mass, with the galleys surrounding them – a standard formation.

“Sail!” came the cry from the crow’s nest of the lead galley.

The message was relayed to Commander Lekapenos, along with supplemental information that had been gathered shortly afterwards. “A Kamite vessel, you say? We’re too far out to pretend that it is a training exercise… Very well, send three of the galleys to accost it,” he ordered.

The three galleys detached, heading for the lone vessel. It turned to flee, but the galleys were yet more swift that the merchantman, as it turned out to be. The lead galley’s captain ordered the merchant to sail to Akeis, and he did not plunder the cargo. The Selentikans had a respect for business ventures even in the midst of war. Akeis had been supporting military preparations for over a month, and it was in need of merchants traveling there once again. Of course, it is not known whether the Kamite merchant landed in Akeis or not, for there are no records.

With the lone ship out of sight behind them, Commander Lekapenos could rest assured that the ship would not be able to make it to Kama before his forces did, which left the surprise intact.

Two days later, land was in sight. They sailed along the coast a small ways, after having found a slight error in the navigator’s calculations, which caused them to reach land some ten miles farther away from the city of Kama than they had wanted. Their course corrected, they landed unopposed on an empty stretch of beach, and quickly threw up a camp and a palisade around it. The ships were not beached, however, as security against annihilation in the case of defeat.

The commander and his staff went over their plan one more time before going to bed. They would leave the camp for the marines and sailors, giving them dry land to stay on while watching the fleet; the army would find a town to occupy halfway between the landing site and the city.

That night, there was an alarm for a spy. Every man went to his unit’s tent, and in due time, the spy was found. He was interrogated, then summarily executed. Commander Lekapenos had known that he had lost the surprise with the error in navigation, and that the Kamites were likely to try to infiltrate his army, and this event was only proof that the Kamites were as predictable as he had thought.

The next morning, after breakfast, the army departed the camp. The four light cavalry divisions were scouting ahead, to the sides, and behind the main columns. Between the two were the seven skirmisher divisions. The six heavy cavalry units marched with the fourteen infantry divisions, split into two columns moving side-by-side.

The Selentikan heavy cavalry (kataphraktoi, they called them) was like no other cavalry in the world. While other nations might armor their cavalrymen with chainmail, the Selentikans took it one step further: they armored their horses, as well. It is true that the large iron ore deposits in the hills and mountains could support production like few other regions could; the heart of the matter, however, was that there was, perhaps, no other nation that was as militarily devious as the Selentikans. This would be the first time that the kataphraktoi would be unleashed on a foreign nation, however, as they concept had only been developed in the past century during the civil wars of that era, and Commander Lekapenos was excited to see how they would perform.

Evening came just as they approached the walled town of Saliya. Commander Lekapenos ordered the town to surrender, which was refused. With that, the commander ordered the assemblage of the siege equipment which the Selentikans had brought with them. The engineers responsible did their job well, working through the night, as time was still of the essence.

The following day, the bombardment began. Commander Lekapenos was not yet ready to risk the valuable lives of his men in any sort of assault just yet. He could afford a day or two of bombarding the town before he _needed_ to take it, and thus was content to not needlessly sacrifice the troops.

On the second day, Saliya capitulated. The delegation which accepted the terms of surrender explained that they had decided that better terms were to be gained through a swift capitulation. They also mentioned that the sultan, Jofa al-Minsahra, would be very… disinclined… to relieve the siege, especially with his capital to look after and so few units nearby with which to form a relieving army (in a secret aside to Commander Lekapenos only, one of the town elders said that Jofa was also struggling with a power struggle between his brother, Sadin, and his son, Harun.

With that, the Selentikans entered the town, establishing quarters, replenishing provisions, and raising their flag over the town hall as a symbol of triumph over the first major obstacle in their campaign.


	3. Before the Walls of Kama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that naming both the capital city and the nation "Kama" would cause problems, but it's a bit late now, sorry. Just think of it like Rome, I guess.

Two days later, Commander Lekapenos ordered the army to move on. He left a garrison in Saliya, and proceeded to march on the capital, which was a two-day journey. The countryside was lovely, although rather different from what the Selentikans were used to. The island of Illeda, from which they hailed, was a land of varied topography. At times there were large areas of grassy flatlands, but the next moment one might come across a large forest or a series of gently – or not so gently – rolling hills.

The Kingdom of Kama, on the other hand, was very up-and-down. South of the desert, at least; the desert was exactly how one might expect a desert to be: hot, dry, and mostly full of sand. That, however, was not where the Selentikans marched. They passed by copses of trees, but for the most part the hilly landscape was dotted with smaller shrubs and yellow grass. The trees grew stunted and warped here, the product of the too-warm air blowing south from the desert. Truth be told, if there were not the occasional thunderstorms blowing in from the Selean Sea, the desert would stretch its deadly fingers down to envelop even up to the coast in its nearly lifeless grip.

“I don’t believe that I like it here, Gregory,” Niketas commented as they rode at the head of the columns.

“I most certainly don’t,” the quartermaster replied. “Even now I long for the ever-present green of our own country.”

“Don’t we all? It is a shame that we must deal in this awful business,” his friend replied.

“Indeed. Why are we even at war?”

“You were never told?”

“Not once, sir.”

“I see…” Niketas thought for a minute, wondering. “I suppose I shall have to tell you, then,” he said at last, a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I should hope so, Niketas, or else I may be tempted to beat the answer out of you,” Gregory jested.

“Anything but that! Spare me, and I shall tell all!”

“I give you leave to proceed,” Gregory spoke magnanimously.

“A great mercy from a most kind officer! So, as I was about to say, we are at war because Jofa al-Minsahra, Sultan of Kama, has supposedly insulted our own good King Andrew Phokaron. And the king, long may he reign, simply could not abide that, and has declared war to ‘salvage his reputation’ or some equally vague thing like that.”

“Insulted? Andrew has a hide of steel…”

“Aye, he did among his own countrymen, back during the last years of the civil wars. He had to, if he wanted to shrug off all of the people saying that his line was illegitimate.”

“So, what happened?”

“My guess is that the wider world cares more about slights to rulers, so he felt forced to declare war. Not that this is a war we can’t win, by any means.”

“I guess I can understand that. What was the insult, anyways?”

“You know, Gregory, how the Kamites are wont to keep a harem?”

“I have heard, yes. What of it?”

“Well, it appears that Jofa, while tactically able, is not too big on tact. He let slip that he thought that Andrew’s daughter, Alexia, would, quote ‘fit in perfectly’ with the women of his harem.”

Gregory stopped and stared at his friend. “He _didn’t_!”

Niketas nodded. “He did, indeed.”

“Now I understand why the king declared war after our last delegation to Kama returned…”

“Indeed. And thus it was that we were ordered here, to deliver King Andrew’s justice upon Sultan Jofa and his people.”

“His Highness’ Will be done,” Gregory muttered. “Although even I am offended by that, it still seems like a very flimsy excuse to cause as much suffering and death as we are about to unleash upon this land.”

“Aye. The sooner we can have done with it, the better.”

As they finished their talk, they crested a hill, the same as hundreds of others before it. This time, however, things were different. This time, they saw the city. White walls ringed it, numerous white towers jutting out a little from the curtain wall, and reaching much higher toward the heavens. Gold and silver domes topped magnificent palaces, and patches of dark greens indicated the locations of the pleasure-gardens of the city’s nobles. Outside the walls, mud brick huts stretched in slums that spoke volumes about many things. All of this Commander Lekapenos took in, but his mind was not focused on these.

“This will be a tough nut to crack, Gregory,” he said.

“Oh, trust me, I know,” his friend replied. It will be your crowning accomplishment. Taking Kama will be the pinnacle of your career, I daresay.”

“You flatter me, Commander Lekapenos spoke sincerely. “In any case, let’s get to it first, shall we?” With that, he resumed the march towards the shining jewel that was the city of Kama.

Half a day later, the army was encamped about the walls. As the traditions of siege warfare dictated, Commander Lekapenos sent a herald to demand the city’s surrender. As they traditions of siege warfare dictated, the city garrison refused the surrender, firing the requisite single arrow of defiance at the herald (although purposely missing, as it is always bad form to strike a herald). With that, the commander inspected the walls, then began to lay his siege.

There were not quite enough Selentikans to completely encircle the city, for it was a great city, even then holding perhaps a hundred-fifty thousand souls. Therefore, Commander Lekapenos settled for dividing his forces to cover each of the four main gates, and setting watches on what few minor gates there were.

The city was well-defended, boasting over fifty towers spread along the curtain wall, which was an impressive seventy feet tall, and thirty feet thick, and made entirely out of white stone (it staggered the imagination to think of where that stone might have come from, and it was not native to the region, and at what cost to build the defenses solely of the material). The engineers estimated that the foundations of the walls extended at least fifteen feet below the surface. The attackers were, however, fortunate in that the Kamite nobles, in their vanity and arrogance, refused to have a moat dug around their beautiful city – a decision which would make any assault that much easier. Still, both sides were in for a difficult fight, one from which neither could afford to back down.


	4. Siege Warfare

The siege had been going on for a week and a half. Control of Saliya meant that the Selentikans could resupply quite easily from the coast, via the unofficial naval base they had established. With the supply lines secure, Commander Lekapenos turned his attention to the investing of the city. He was still not particularly eager to lay siege to Kama, however, for to do so would signal a determination to capture the city. This may seem obvious, but it is more than simple intent. To lay siege to any fortification only to abandon it would incur a loss of prestige in the international community. Commander Lekapenos had seen it many times, usually when the Soncian city-states were propagating their petty squabbles: one would lay siege to another; if they were successful in their assault, the other city-states would think more highly of them. If they failed, however, the others would think them weak.

However, as his king commanded, the same shall he carry out. Commander Lekapenos settled down for the siege. He ordered the construction of siege towers (ladders being too uncertain against the great height of the wall), and deliberated the placement of a minehead with his engineers. They had identified a few spots, and were discussing the best order in which to begin work. At the same time, other specialists were overseeing the construction of all manner of siege weaponry, from ballistae to catapults to battering rams.

There were also – in theory – sorties from the garrison to contend with, although whomever commanded the garrison was either too timid or confident in the ability of his troops to defend in the event of an assault that he refused to send out a single sortie. With Commander Lekapenos being less-accustomed to siege warfare than the other forms, there were a few occasions wherein a sortie from the garrison could have confounded the attempted works of the besiegers. However, the garrison commander stayed his hand, and the efforts proceeded without hindrance.

Then Captain Arseni had an insight: what if the garrison was so depleted that they could not afford to lose any men in a sortie? Commander Lekapenos was willing to put the idea to the test. That very day, he ordered the construction of a new battering ram, deliberately setting a much smaller guard detail than caution advised, to see if the defenders would take the bait. Of course, Commander Lekapenos was personally heading a contingent of troops ready back up the scant defenders in case the garrison did move against them.

As it was, nothing happened on the first or second days. The night before the third, however, saw – or, rather, heard – a movement and rustling, and then the ram was on fire. The guard detail quickly woke to the sound of combat. Commander Lekapenos – constantly on watch – had seen the spark of the firestarter, and rushed out of the bushes to engage the saboteur. While cautious on a strategic level, Niketas always had a more reckless strain when on the field. As such, he did not call for his men to back him up, and was thus surprised when there were ten Kamites waiting for him instead of him catching only one.

He would have been captured or slain very swiftly had it not been for the brave men who until recently were asleep. Without donning their armor, they took up their arms and rushed into the fray. The Selentikan valor here cannot be overstated. All they knew was that one of their own was desperately outnumbered, and they rushed to save him. They did not know whom it was they saved by their quick action; it was an effort born of the genuine comraderie that used to be so strong within the Selentikan armies. This brotherhood was stronger than the steel of the Kamites, especially when it was discovered that the man they were rescuing was their commander.

The Kamites were put to flight, leaving four of their own dead upon the field, not a single one of the others without some grievous wound. As for the Selentikans, one was slain, three were badly wounded, and the rest had sustained light wounds. Niketas, although in need of treatment himself, insisted upon helping to transport the more injured of his men to the healers. It was only when he arrived that it was discovered that he had a massive gash on his right arm, and that one of the Kamites had managed to leave a dagger in his thigh. He was ordered by the healers to submit himself to their care, although he insisted that it not be made public that he was with the healers, for he knew full well the adverse effects such news could have on the morale of his men.

The siege continued as before. Commander Lekapenos ordered no more experimental plans to be put into effect, and the Kamites did not dare to leave the safety of their walls. In this manner, the first month of the siege passed swiftly by. As the matter stretched into its second month, which is not unusual for works such as these, there were reports from the spies Commander Lekapenos maintained out in the wider Kingdom of Kama that Sultan Jofa was assembling an army to drive the invaders from his shores.

In response to this threat, Commander Lekapenos ordered several junior captains – including Captain Arseni – to take their divisions and put the countryside between Kama and where the Sultan’s army was reported to be to the torch. They were instructed to take what they could and burn the rest, all to deprive the Sultan of resources and force him to take a longer route to reach Kama and relieve the siege.

The divisions departed later that week in a burst of excitement, and then matters settled back down to the grind. Two weeks later, the survivors trickled back to the camp, first as a trickle, then a steady stream. The story was always the same: they had encountered Sultan Jofa’s army (or at least part of it), and their unit had been destroyed. Commander Lekapenos was dismayed at his officers’ attempts to fight the enemy, and began to prepare for what could very well be the critical battle of the campaign.


	5. Assaulting the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All poetry I'm putting in here is original, so please don't steal it, although I'm sure nobody will want to.
> 
> Here's a close-up map of the region the campaign takes place in.  
> [](https://imgur.com/3Z0v28O)

Two days later, as his scouts reported the sultan’s army drawing ever nearer, Commander Lekapenos went for a walk around the defenses with his son, Basil. He had turned sixteen the day the Selentikans landed on Koriand’r, and was continually excited to be part of the adventures Niketas had told him about when Basil was growing up.

“In case anything happens to me, Basil, I want you to return to Salonika and look after your mother. In case we are routed, I have assigned a division of the infantry to escort you to the harbor,” Niketas Lekapenos instructed his son.

“But Father, I want to fight!” Basil protested. “I’m a man now!”

“And so you are. But you are also the last Lekapenos, and as such you must not allow our line to fail. I know you’re disappointed, but my father said the same thing when I accompanied him during the civil wars.”

Basil looked as if he would argue, his green eyes looking intently at his father. Then the moment passed, and he slumped his brown-topped head. “Yes, Father,” he conceded.

“Thank you, Basil. I know it’s hard for you,” Niketas said, embracing his son. Just then, a trumpet sounded from the main camp. Commander Lekapenos rushed back to his tent, his son right at his heels.

“What happened?” the commander asked hurriedly.

“The gate has been breached, and the first of the siege towers has been completed. Should we proceed with an assault?” Gregory informed and inquired.

Victory was close, but to fail in the assault could do irreparable harm to morale. With reports that Sultan Jofa was currently at the town of Dumyat, which was a five day’s journey from Kama, Commander Lekapenos knew that it was now or never. Even if he drove of the sultan’s army, he wouldn’t have the strength to take the city.

Keeping all of that in mind, the commander turned to his officers. “Prepare for an assault,” he ordered. “We attack on the morrow.” His officers sprang into action, galvanizing the troops, who were eager for a victory.

That evening, Niketas was in a most reflective mood, and, being quite cultured, as were nearly all of the Selentikan nobility, he composed a poem. This poem is hardly a famous one, but it has survived until now, and when I found it with the manuscript of this history, which I am transcribing for you, I knew that it would be a great injustice to that worthy man to not include his original work, so it is included below:

_The sounds that assail me_  
_with little regard for my tent_  
_pale in comparison to_  
_the enormity of my task._

_Failure means disgrace_  
_will be shed upon a career_  
_that excellence has_  
_been chosen for foundation._

_The magnificent whiteness_  
_stretches up before me,_  
_and the once-green grass_  
_lies trampled beneath our boots._

_It is a grim portention_  
_of what is to come,_  
_for those with me care_  
_far less, indeed, than I._

_Beauty is something to be seized,_  
_they will tell me that day._  
_I shall refuse, but little will remain,_  
_for greed clouds men’s hearts._

_And I, simple, respected man,_  
_will return to my home,_  
_or else perish on the field,_  
_for half-victory is no victory at all._

The following morning, Commander Lekapenos gave a rousing speech to his men, telling of his belief in their ability, of their enemy’s inability to withstand them, and how they  
would soon be sheltered within the walls that had been keeping them out for those past two months.

His troops thereby inspired, Commander Lekapenos withdrew to a nearby hill to view the progress of the assault. The siege tower trundled towards the walls, and the battering ram was moved into position to burst open the doors and clear the entrance of the rubble which was sure to have been piled inside the gate.

An hour later, both machines were in place. The signal to begin the assault was relayed, and the siege tower’s drawbridge was lowered into the battlements. The garrison’s fire arrows had proved ineffective as the structure approached, and only a few men had been injured by stray missiles. They poured onto the walls, beginning a fierce combat. Both sides knew that defeat meant death. The Selentikan vigor here proved the more potent, and the invaders won a few feet of the wall, which slowly expanded into a few yards, and over the course of the next half-hour became that stretch of the wall. Great feats of arms were done well by those of both sides, and there were many unnamed soldiers who deserved to have their names recorded for the annals of history, but who were never mentioned because they were felled before they could relate their prowess.

The Selentikans could not be driven from the walls, but the East Gate of the city, which was under pressure from the ram, refused to yield, and that prong of the assault had to be abandoned due to the determined resistance of the defenders. Even the women and children helped to hurl down stones and other makeshift projectiles upon the Selentikans, forcing them to withdraw. Despite this, elsewhere the invaders were holding fast to every inch of ground they overtook. Tower after tower was cleared, the black scimitars on red (the symbol of Kama) being hauled down from the flagpoles and being replaced with the quartered gold crown on blue and silver crossed swords on green banner of Selentika.

When a third of the wall had been taken, the Selentikans began to descend into the city, working their way over to the gates to let in the troops waiting outside them, just out of bowshot. It was slow going in the city, for although the defenders were few, they were valiant, and forced the invaders to fight for every block and every alley, all the way up to the Arbmahla, which is the citadel of the city of Kama. When the gates were opened, the rest of the Selentikans flooded the city, sweeping away the defenders, laying siege to the Arbmahla and beginning to loot the city.


	6. Battle Outside the Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. College has dampened my desire to write, but I haven't forgotten any of the Peteian stuff, so don't be worried about that.

With the city of Kama captured, Commander Lekapenos moved quickly to secure the countryside before the Sultan arrived with his forces. The villages around the city, which are scattered in a circle around Kama, each about a day’s journey between them and the city, and between the village and its immediate neighbors. When researching the war, I found evidence of a skirmish just outside the village closest to Sayfa. I could not determine whether this dates from before or after the capture of Kama, however, for the skirmishing phase continued after that city’s capture until shortly after the great battle outside the city, when Sultan Jofa arrived.

As the Sultan’s army drew nearer, Commander Lekapenos decided to engage with it outside of the city. Leaving a decently-sized garrison in Kama (that is, two thousand men), he took the main part of his force and went to offer battle to the Kamites. Of the ten thousand men that the Selentikans had landed on Koriand’r, some three thousand had perished, either in the skirmishes, the assault of the city, or through the inevitable desertion and attrition. All totaled, Commander Lekapenos had approximately five thousand troops with him when he faced down the Kamite army.

With him were all of the kataphraktoi, as heavy cavalry is of no use when defending a city. Commander Lekapenos also ordered the catapults used during the siege to be brought with the army as well – there were four of them. The rest of the army comprised of skirmisher cavalry, archers, several units of pikemen, and the sword and spear units that almost all armies use, although these last two had better armor than was normal (again due to the richer iron lodes on Illeda).

To contrast, Sultan Jofa had with him the royal cavalry units, which were made up of heavy and ranged cavalry. He had recruited some heavily armored spear units as mercenaries from the Soncian city-states, veterans of those petty wars. The rest of the army was made of levied peasants, armed with slings or spears and swords. The Sultan had a total of six thousand, five hundred men under his command.

The two armies met on a sparsely-wooded plain, with a low rise in the center, five miles away from Kama. Commander Lekapenos drew up his infantry in a single line, with his archers behind it for protection. He placed his cavalry on the flanks in typical Selentikan fashion. The catapults he placed behind the archers. As my source for the battle comes from Commander Lekapenos’ report to King Andrew, I cannot say how the Sultan arrayed his forces, for he does not include that information. What I can say is that Jofa al-Minsahra, supposedly not a bad tactician, quickly lost control of his levied units, which did not help him in his endeavor.

The battle happened in this manner: when al-Minsahra was prepared to drive out the invaders of his kingdom, he sent forth his cavalry and the mercenary spearmen, as they were the better-trained portion of his forces, with the intention of tying down the Selentikan forces, tiring them enough that his levies could bring them down with sheer numbers. When they were about halfway across the field, however, the Kamite slingers also advanced. Not to be left behind, the levy spearmen refused to stay in their appointed positions. The result was that the entirety of the Kamite army advanced in a quasi-column towards the center of the Selentikan formation, through a straight opening between the wooded areas of the field. The catapults opened fire as soon as the range was judged to be close enough, and the same with the archers. The kataphraktoi charged the Kamite infantry from the sides, causing great slaughter, although the Kamite spears did not go unbloodied. Eventually, the infantry engaged the Selentikan units, and a melee ensued, one in which the Selentikans quickly gained the upper hand.

The Selentikan skirmishers kept their Kamite opposites busy for long enough that the Kamite infantry began to rout. Commander Lekapenos and his bodyguards even took it upon themselves to personally drive Sultan Jofa off the field, which they did admirably, although his hopes of capturing the Sultan were thwarted. The Kamites refused to give up the fight until it became known that their ruler had fled, at which point their morale collapsed, and they ceded the field to the Selentikans, who took many prisoners.

Commander Lekapenos recounts several notable deeds, but he spends numerous words on the catapults, calling them “a stroke of genius”. He recounts the brave actions of an unnamed man who, after helping to drive off some Kamites who had broken through the infantry line, returned to his artillery and fired a stone straight into the Sultan’s bodyguard of horse, killing several, and distracting them enough to allow Commander Lekapenos’ own horsemen to close into combat with them. The heroics were not reserved only for the victors, however. The report also mentions how, in the final stage of the battle, a brave Kamite archer held off the Selentikans in the woods until he was caught and slain, buying enough time for the rest of his regiment to retreat in somewhat good order. Commander Lekapenos’ reports are nothing if not at least somewhat fair.

With the battle won, and the Kamites driven away for the time being, Commander Lekapenos returned to Kama to rest and plan his next advance. With the city taken, his primary objective was complete, but he knew that there was more to be done before he could call the campaign to a close. There was also the issue of casualties to deal with. He had lost just over one thousand, eight hundred men in the battle, which put his remaining soldiers at just over half of what he had begun the invasion with. He consoled himself by remembering the great slaughter he had inflicted upon the Kamites, as Sultan Jofa had only one and a half thousand men remaining to him, four hundred men having been captured, and the rest (a sizeable forty-eight hundred men) lying slain upon the field. Commander Lekapenos had triumphed for the day, but he knew that he had only bought himself breathing room, and little else.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think of the story so far!


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